


The Importance of Sandwiches

by ikkiM



Series: Scenes in Search of a Fic [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Sandwiches, unfinished fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:45:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More Scenes in Search of a Fic. This is from the same universe, various scenes all revolving around or mentioning sandwiches because SandwichesYumYum is such a bundle of wonderfulness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brienne Makes a Sandwich

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SandwichesYumYum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandwichesYumYum/gifts).



> This is a scene early on in the fic in which Jaime is trying to find out more information about his father's new assistant, Brienne Tarth. Brienne has moved into Casterly Rock under the guise of being Tywin's assistant, but she is really there to monitor his health as he's recovering from a heart attack.

Jaime found her in the kitchen, making a sandwich. Thin slices of nine-grain bread, turkey she’d sliced off the whole breast she’d found somewhere, lettuce, tomato, red onion, a hint of spicy mustard. He leaned against the counter while she put the ingredients away. “We have cooks for that, you know,” he informed her.

“I’m quite capable of making my own lunch,” was her terse reply. She tried to push him to the side to reach the fresh fruit in the bowl behind. He stood fast, making her almost put her arm around him. She grabbed an apple and two Clementines. She got the almond butter from the cabinet. She turned her back to him and began to slice the apple.

He eyed her sandwich and decided to help himself. “Wats wong wif mayo?” he asked.

She turned to him with a glare. “Mayonnaise has no nutritional value. If you must, you can use Vegenaise instead and you’re eating my lunch.”

He swallowed. “Just half.” He peeled one of her Clementines. “Weren’t you ever taught to share?” He popped a section in his mouth, a bit of the juice dribbling over his lip. He licked his lip and saw her blush. He grinned.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” she asked as she turned away.

“Shouldn’t _you_ be working? Doesn’t my father need some assisting?” The true duties of Brienne Tarth was still of much speculation. She had free run of the house. She never touched paperwork or reports. She never made phone calls. She didn’t take dictation. Mostly she hovered around his father, sat quietly in meetings and took walks with him in the evenings.

“He’s reading reports,” she blushed. What was so blush-worthy about reading reports?

“When did you first meet him, my father I mean?” Jaime was determined to get some answers. The blush faded and she looked him right in the eye.

“I met him at Winterfell University last month.” He thought that, at least, was the truth.

“Why did he hire you? I mean, you’re kind of a terrible assistant. You mostly work out and sit in meetings like a lump, wench.” That ought to make her mad.

“Have you discussed my duties with your father?”

He hadn’t expected that. She seemed to know very well that his father refused to discuss her. What was going on between the two of them? He tried a different tack. “Tell me about your father.”

She still met his eyes at that. “Admiral Selwyn Tarth of the Westerosi Navy. He died a few years ago.” She seemed sad only for a moment, before blinking those thoughts away. He noticed her eyes, a clear blue, not like the sea but more of a summer sky. Astonishing eyes that did not quite belong is such a mismatched face. “You can look him up on Westernet.”

As far as he knew, Selwyn Tarth had no Lannister blood. She wasn’t related on that side. “And your mother?”

That earned him a glare. “She died when I was very young. As did my siblings. I’m the last of my line.” She took the remainder of her sandwich, Clementine and apple to the table. “I went to boarding school most of my life. I just graduated Winterfell. I’m taking a year before I start my PhD program back there. In the meantime, I’m here. Assisting your father.” She sat down. “Is there anything else you want to know?”

He thought about beating the information out of her, but she was taller and possibly stronger than she was. Instead, he stole her Clementine. “No, but that was an excellent sandwich. You should make me one every day.” He escaped the room before she made it out of her chair.


	2. Getting to Know Each Other...and Sandwiches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There really isn't much to these bits other than sandwiches were mentioned. It's really just movement along the Jaime and Brienne relationship, showing they are getting closer over time.

Brienne’s phone buzzed with a text message.

Jaime: Where R U?

She considered not answering, but knew it was futile. Jaime would continually text her until she answered.

Brienne: Conservatory.

Jaime: Come to kitchen, NOW WENCH.

Brienne: Why?

Jaime: Sandwich.

Brienne: No.

Jaime: So mean.

Brienne: Two slices of bread, cut one slice of turkey, light mustard, tomato, red onion, lettuce.

Jaime: It tastes better when you make it.

Brienne: No.

一

She was surprised to hear the knock on her bedroom door. She opened the door to find Jaime leaning against the doorjamb. He looked good that way and knew it. She sighed. “What?”

“What are you doing?” he grinned at her.

“Reading. Does Mr. Lannister need me?” He’d seemed fine earlier.

Jaime rolled his eyes. “Father is holed up in his study. He will go to bed precisely at 10:30pm, which is an hour earlier than he used to before you moved in, by the way. Until then, he is not to be disturbed unless the house is on fire. He doesn’t need you.”

“Okay. What do you want?” Usually his demands for a sandwich came by text, but it was late.

“Tyrion is out fucking whores with Bronn and I’m bored.”

Her eyes went wide at the mention of prostitutes. “He’s not seriously?”

Jaime rolled his eyes. “Of course he is. Entertain me.”

“Entertain yourself. Or call a friend.”

“Lannisters don’t have friends. We have each other.”

“You should make a friend then,” Brienne suggested

“Why?”

“To have someone to entertain you when you’re bored.”

“I have you for that,” he argued

“You don’t have me for anything.” She moved to close the door, but he blocked it with his foot.

“Come on, wench. I’ll let you beat me at badminton.”

“Brienne and it’s dark out.”

“We can raid the kitchen for ice cream.”

“Dinner was less than an hour ago and it’s too late in the evening for sweets.”

“I’m hungry.”

“I’m not.”

“Come make me a sandwich.”

“Make your own sandwich,” Brienne huffed. “Why do you want my company anyway?”

“Why don’t you want mine? Am I that awful?” Jaime raised a brow.

He was _that_ beautiful. “Fine. No eating, though.” She followed him down the stairs.

“Video games?” he suggested.

“Too violent.” she rejected

“A movie?”

“I pick.”

“Something girly?”

Of course he would want something girly. He was really far too much like Renly. “Gods, _no_.”

一

Brienne’s phone buzzed a text message alert.

Jaime: HELP. COME TO KITCHEN. EMERGENCY

Brienne headed to the kitchen worried for Tywin but found only Jaime sucking his left index finger, a partially sliced onion on the cutting board beside him.

He held out his hand to her. “I cut myself. It’s your fault.”

She rolled her eyes and took his hand. He had a small slice on the side of his finger. “It’s fine. Just wash it. It won’t even need bandage.”

He held his hand under the faucet. “Could you finish making my sandwich?”

She eyed him warily, “Did you purposefully nick yourself so I’d have to make you lunch?”

He grinned, “Of course not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a part of my plot issue about this fic. The plan was that Brienne would think Jaime is gay and closeted (I'll post that bit sometime...maybe) only it felt so dated after I wrote it. In light of the recent Supreme Court decisions on gay rights, I didn't feel comfortable writing a fic on the basis that homosexuality was something that needs hidden. 
> 
> So...that's part of the "He's so like Renly" from Brienne, because Renly, in this fic, was going to be gay and deeply closeted, so much so that Brienne had been his beard in college.
> 
> If I'd only written this back in 1982... :)


	3. Sandwich Bribes, Dirty Words and Erections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime bribes Brienne into making him a sandwich and...other things and later ruins Tyrion's lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized the existing chapter 3 sucked, so I re-wrote and added an additional section.

Jaime flopped down on the couch beside her. He laid his hand on the back of the couch and stared at her. She looked up at him. He was gorgeous. And gay. She sighed.

“What?”

“What _what_?” he responded.

“What do you want?”

“What makes you think I want something?”

She shut down her tablet. “Because you always want something. A sandwich. To quiz me about my origins. To argue with me about sports. To insult my clothes or my posture. You never, ever just sit quietly and read.”

“Yes, why is it that you always have time to sit quietly and read?”

“So we are to the quizzing portion of the evening?” she sighed.

He grinned. “ _Yes_. Will you answer every question I ask?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll take it as an opportunity to ask me embarrassing questions.”

“What if I promise not to?”

She gave him the side-eye, “Because you are known for keeping your promises?”

He grinned even wider. “Come on wench, give me a chance.”

“My name is Brienne. Fine. Ask a question, but I don’t have to answer.”

He thought for a moment. She began regretting this. He was sure to ask something embarrassing.

“Seafood or fish?”

Surprised, she tilted her head at him. “Both. Tarth is an island.”

“Your turn.”

She wanted to ask him how he got his hair to look so perfect. Instead she asked, “Favorite class in college?”

“Classical Westerosi Mythology, yours?”

“Weapons and Arms of Medieval Westeros, sock sock, shoe shoe or sock shoe, sock shoe?”

“Sock sock, shoe shoe, of course. Ever broken a bone?”

“Several. I played a lot of sports.” She flexed her ankle. “Sunrise or sunset?”

“Sunset. Sheets tucked in or sheets untucked?”

“Untucked. Dinosaurs or dragons?”

“Lions, of course. I _am_ a Lannister. Favorite curse word?”

“I try not to curse. How did you get that scar on your eyebrow?”

“‘Fuck’ is my favorite curse word. I think it can be added to anything. I got this fucking scar during a fucking football game when some fucker hit me so fucking hard he knocked my fucking helmet off my fucking head. Say ‘fuck’ for me?”

She felt the flush creeping up her neck. “No. Why?”

“Because I want to hear you say it.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because even thinking the word ‘fuck’ makes you turn a ridiculous shade of pink. I’ll give you a hundred dragons to say ‘fuck’.”

She shook her head at him. “I can’t be bought.”

“A thousand drags to say ‘fuck’ twice?”

“Do you have so much money you can waste it on embarrassing me?”

“Yes. Say ‘fuck.’”

“ _No_.”

“Do you say ‘fuck’ when you get angry?”

“Not usually, no.”

“Do you say ‘fuck’ during sex?” Jaime raised a brow.

“We’re done.” She opened her tablet again and searched for the article she'd been reading.

“You’ve never said ‘fuck me harder, faster’?”

She tried to ignore him.

“‘Fuck me please’?” He’d dropped his voice. It sounded low and sexy.

She wanted the couch to swallow her.

He moved closer to her. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “‘I want to fuck’.”

She stood up, leaving him off balance. She turned to him. “Why is it that every time I think you’re not a jerk, you prove me wrong?”

He leaned back, spreading both arms over the back of the couch. “How about we race through the hedge maze. If I win, you have to say ‘fuck’? And make me a sandwich. I’m hungry.” He rubbed his stomach, exposing a hint of golden skin.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You grew up here. You know the maze. You’re always hungry and you can make your own sandwich. And why do you want me to say it anyway?”

“What if I ask and say please?” he wheedled.

“What if you stop cursing for a month?” she challenged.

“Deal! I’ll stop cursing for a month. You say, ‘I want to fuck’.”

“No. If you stop cursing for an entire month, I’ll say that one word.” How had she gotten herself into this?

“You say ‘Fuck me, please’?”

“No. Just the word.”

“I’ll stop cursing for two weeks if you just say the word, but you have to make me a sandwich.”

 _Why not_? She’d cursed enough when she lived with Renly and Loras, although mildly. Somehow cursing around Jaime was dirtier, naughtier, _sexual_. “Deal.” She took a deep breath. He pulled out his phone and hit record.

“You’re not going to record it?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Yes, yes I am. Then I am going to have it repeat as my ringtone. Say it.”

“No.”

“Say it, we made a deal. Are you backing out?”

“The deal did not involve a recording.”

“Dealbreaker.”

“I am not,” she insisted.

“Then say it,” Jaime grinned.

“Fine.” She took a deep breath. “Fuck.”

“Now say ‘me, Jaime’.”

“Shut up.”

一

Brienne: I left your sandwich in the refrigerator.

Jaime: Pickles?

Brienne: On the side.

Jaime: Good. They make the bread soggy. Mayo?

Brienne: Seven save you from soggy bread. No mayo. Mustard.

Jaime: Cut in squares?

Brienne: Yes, just the way you like.

Jaime: With those blue-frilled toothpicks in each square?

Brienne: *rolls eyes* Of course.

Jaime: Side dish?

Brienne: Veggie crisps.

Jaime: Cardboard!

Brienne: Dip them in mustard.

Jaime: So mean. Dessert?

Brienne: NO.

Jaime: Not even ice cream???

Brienne: Fine. Frozen yogurt and berries.

一

Tyrion’s phone rang just as he was making a sandwich. It was Jaime, who didn’t even bother to say hello. “Have you had that wellness exam that Father required us to attend?” Jaime asked.

“Seven hells. They stuck me with needles and tested everything. Horrid. Father’s obsession with health is exhausting. All that healthy food and he’s even been exercising. It’s all rather frightening. But to make _us_ eat healthy and see doctors, it really is beyond the pale.” Tyrion looked left and right making sure Brienne wasn't in sight before opening the packet of mayonnaise he'd lifted from _Hot Pies_ and smearing it onto the bread. 

“Did they ask you anything else?” Jaime asked.

“Other than reviewing my entire medical history?” Tyrion responded as he opened a second packet of condiment contraband.

“Nothing about your... _ability to perform_?”

Tyrion finished assembling and picked it up. “Perform what?” Tyrion asked before sinking his teeth into his mayonnaise-covered heaven.

Jaime exhaled. “I just spent the past forty-five minutes being quizzed on the strength and fullness of my erections and the quantity and quality of my ejaculate. They made me provide a _sample._ ”

Tyrion choked on his sandwich.


	4. Twyin Makes a Sandwich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion catches Tywin in the kitchen with bacon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place much later in the fic. Since the last chapter, _things_ have happened between Jaime and Brienne, including what she believes to be a fake engagement. Fake because she believes him to be gay. She finds out he is not gay, and leaves Casterly Rock in humiliation. She has since returned although feelings have not yet been declared.
> 
> I included this chapter because of the overall Sandwich action. And...I like this chapter. This was fun for me.

Tyrion smelled bacon. He’d been late at Tysha’s and was just coming in only to find a striped pajama-covered rear sticking out from the refrigerator. “Father?” he choked out.

Tywin started and turned around, a block of cheese in one hand, a tub of butter in the other. “Tyrion,” he responded in a tone that did not invite questions.

“Father, are you _cooking_?” Tyrion had seen many odd sights in his lifetime. He’d seen grown men cower. He’d seen women twist their bodies in ways he hadn’t thought possible. He’d looked off the top of the Wall and seen forever. He’d seen love in Tysha’s eyes, but he had never, in all his years, seen his father _cook_.

Tywin seemed to consider his options before answering. “Yes, toasty bacon and cheese. Would you like one?”

Tyrion was momentarily flummoxed. It sounded delicious. “Yes. Why are you making your own sandwich though?”

Tywin set down the cheese and butter. He flipped the bacon. “Brienne is quite insistent that I not eat bacon.” He began to butter the bread. “Or cheese.”

Tyrion sat down at the table. “She is particularly hostile towards breakfast meat and full-fat dairy products.”

Tywin finished buttering the bread. He looked Tyrion over and nodded decisively before he began speaking. “Last year, on my trip to Winterfell, I had a cardiac issue. Brienne was most helpful at that time. She agreed to come back to Casterly Rock to assist in my recovery and certain ‘lifestyle changes.’”

Tyrion laughed. “So she’s not your assistant at all? She’s your dietician and personal trainer?”

“I believe she prefers the term ‘nutritionist.’” Tywin cut exactly four slices of cheese. “She has also instructed me on several ‘stress reduction’ techniques.” He began removing strips of bacon from the skillet and placing them on a paper towel.

The implications of his father being ill began to dawn on him. “And are you recovered?”

Tywin nodded. “Very much so. I’m healthier now than I have been in years.” He took another paper towel and patted the grease off of the top of the pile of bacon. He moved the bacon skillet to the back burner and got out a fresh one. He turned to Tyrion. “Although I had to fake a second incident to convince Brienne to return after your witless brother drove her away.” Tywin grabbed the spatula and pointed it at Tyrion. “I had to suffer the indignity of a hospital gown for him. _A hospital gown_.”

Tyrion dodged the flying bacon grease. “So you faked a heart attack to get Brienne to come back?”

Tywin added a little bacon grease to the fresh skillet. He got out two plates. “Brienne is remarkably easy to manipulate. She is far too soft-hearted, but she is young and she is healthy. She will give me grandchildren. Maybe four. Or five. Five would be preferable.” He lay two slices of bread in the skillet, butter side down. They began to sizzle.

“You brought her here as a broodmare for Jaime?”

Tywin waved the spatula at him. “Of course I didn’t _bring_ her here for that.” He placed two slices of cheese on each sizzling slice of bread. He looked at the ceiling and grumbled, “Why do my children think I am oblivious to blooming attraction?” He uncovered the slices of bacon and placed five slices on each sandwich. “Once I recognized your brother’s juvenile infatuation, I enlisted the help of your Aunt Genna on how to promote the relationship. She advised me to watch films categorized as ‘romantic comedies’. Idiotic works. The men are always oafish and the women obtuse.” He waved the spatula in the air. “Useless. However, they did lead me to investigate 'physical proximity attraction.' I simply arranged for Brienne to accompany Jaime everywhere. That seems to have been quite effective. You cannot deny that Jaime has bonded to her?” He placed the second slices of bread over the sandwiches, butter side up.

He nodded. “Oh yes, Jaime has definitely bonded to her, but how have you managed to manipulate her?”

Tywin flipped the sandwiches. He pressed down on them with the spatula. “She has no interest in money. Any time she seemed inclined to leave or displayed frustration, I would simply express affection for her or indicate that I was in failing health. As I said, she is far too soft-hearted. And she has no other family.”

“Your affection for her is not genuine then?”

Tywin placed both sandwiches on the cutting board. He pulled out a meat cleaver and inspected it. “Of course my affection for her is genuine.” With a _thwack_ he cut the first sandwich in half diagonally. “Any man would be proud to have her as a daughter.” _Thwack_ and the second sandwich was in two. Using the spatula he put both sandwiches on their respective plates. He handed one plate to Tyrion and placed the other on the table. “They are too hot to touch yet,” he advised. He pulled two cloth napkins from the drawer and set them on the table. “Bourbon or Scotch?” he asked.

“Which do you recommend?”

“Bourbon, of course. It pairs better with bacon.” Tywin knelt to pull a decanter and two tumblers from the farthest corner of the cabinet under the sink. He poured them each a drink. He sat down at the table and placed his napkin in his lap. “It’s best to eat them after the cheese has had a time to cool, but not before it begins to congeal. Do _not_ wait too long.”

Tyrion picked up his sandwich and took a bite. It was delicious. He watched his father. His father, who was eating with his fingers. Tywin Lannister never ate with his fingers. The man ate almonds with a spoon. Tyrion swallowed. “So, now I’ve know where to find your secret stash of liquor, where do you keep the bacon?”

Tywin swallowed his second bite of toasty bacon cheese and washed it down with a sip of bourbon. “In the second refrigerator, under the strawberries. Brienne’s one allergy is strawberries. They give her hives.”

He nodded. “Good to know. Father, how did you learn to cook?”

Tywin leveled him with a gaze. “You mother would have certain cravings and she would refuse to rouse the cook. I was given no other option.” Tywin blotted his fingers on his napkin. “You might be curious as to why I have shared this information with you?”

Tyrion was curious. “Yes, what makes you think I won’t go tell them both?”

Tywin patted his lips before addressing the second half of his sandwich. “Several reasons. One, Brienne makes Jaime happy. You would not wish to ruin his happiness. Two, you are also fond of Brienne. Three, I own a majority Hot Pies and will see to it that they never serve you again. Four, I recently invested in an apple orchard currently managed by a young woman named Tysha.”

Tyrion chewed on his sandwich and took a sip of bourbon. Father was right. It did pair well with the bacon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter occurs almost at the end of the fic, post-feelings declaration and you catch up with Jaime and Brienne.


	5. Brienne Smells Banned Bacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This occurs almost at the end of the story. This scene happens after a terrible incident with strawberries. Basically, things happen, feelings are declared, and Jaime is all ready to get busy and strawberries are involved. Only Brienne gets as rash from even touching them (I have this problem myself). So Jaime's romantic plans have been foiled and Brienne has gone to bed covered in anti-itch cream.
> 
> That sets the scene.

Brienne had fallen asleep to thoughts of Jaime only to be awakened by her vibrating mobile. She looked at the clock. It was 2:27 a.m. She answered, “Jaime?”

“I forgot something.”

“What?”

“Come outside.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Come outside anyway.”

Her stomach clenched. “Why?”

“Stop overthinking it and come outside.”

She sat up. “Where outside?”

“Back gardens.”

“Give me a minute.”

“Hurry.”

She slipped on a her sandals and headed downstairs in her t-shirt and boxers. She heard someone in the kitchen. She smelled... _bacon_. She stopped in the doorway. Tywin was standing at the stove.

“What in the name of the seven do you think you are doing, Tywin Lannister?”

She saw his back stiffen. He turned slowly. “Brienne, my dear, come down for a midnight snack?”

“Are you eating fried pork?” She looked at the pile of bacon on the napkin; she saw the block of cheese and the tub of butter; she glanced at the tumbler of bourbon. “And butter and cheese and drinking _alcohol_?”

Her phone buzzed. She hit ignore.

Tywin looked at his neatly aligned ingredients. He looked longingly at his drink. He turned to face her. “Yes. Would you like some?”

Her phone buzzed again. She answered. “Came upon an emergency,” and hung up.

“Is that a rash? Did you get near a strawberry?” Tywin asked.

She raised her hand to the rash on her jaw. “Jaime...wait, don’t change the subject.”

“What subject?”

“You know very well that none of this is on your diet. Especially after having had a second heart attack.” She met his eyes. His gaze never wavered. She inhaled as the realization hit her. “You didn’t have a second heart attack at all. You lied to me. You tricked me.”

“Yes. But only because it was necessary for you to return to Casterly Rock.”

Her phone buzzed again. She answered, “In the kitchen,” and hung up.

“How long have you been lying to me?”

Tywin turned and flipped his sandwich. “I don’t believe I ever actually lied to you, Brienne. You simply drew incorrect conclusions.”

“Do not even start with that.”

“Start with what?” Jaime asked from the other doorway. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and looked better than any man had a right to at 3:00 a.m.

She turned to face him and flung out her arm to point to Tywin. “Your father has been lying to me and manipulating me and now he’s secretly eating bacon.”

“Gods, there’s bacon in the house? It’s been so long.” Jaime grabbed a slice and shoved it in his mouth. He moaned softly as he swallowed. Brienne blushed at the sound. Tywin narrowed his eyes. “He’s always been a manipulating control freak, but what does that have to do with your war on breakfast meat?” Jaime asked around a second slice.

She crossed her arms and stared at Tywin. “Are you going to tell him or should I?”

“Oh, is the jig up?” Tyrion said from the other doorway. He sauntered into the kitchen in his slippers and bathrobe. He grabbed a slice of bacon and sat down in a chair. Brienne turned her glare on him. He pointed at Tywin. “It was all his idea.”

She turned to Jaime. “Did you know about this too?”

Jaime grabbed a third slice of bacon. “About Father’s secret bacon habit? No.”

She turned back to Tywin. He looked at the dwindling pile of bacon longingly, then back at Brienne. He cleared his throat. “Jaime, unbeknownst to you, and until recently to Tyrion, I had a minor medical issue on my last trip to Winterfell.”

“You had a heart attack,” Brienne clarified.

Tywin removed the sandwich from the skillet, placed it on a plate and turned off the burner before again facing her. “I had a mild cardiac issue. It was at that time that I engaged the services of Brienne to assist me in avoiding a second incident. I am since fully recovered.”

Jaime looked at Brienne, then at his father, then back at Brienne. “What?”

She kept her eyes locked on Tywin. “I’m not his assistant. I’ve never been his assistant.”

“Brienne has been assisting me in the areas of diet, exercise and stress management.”

Jaime spoke around another mouthful of bacon. “So the no doughnuts, nightly walks and weird breathing, is all a result of Brienne?”

Tywin and Brienne had still not looked away from one another. “Tell him the rest,” she prompted.

Tywin inhaled. “And she may have misunderstood a situation while she was away that might possibly have led her to think that I had a second cardiac incident. And that misunderstanding appears to have resulted in her return to Casterly Rock.”

Tyrion grinned. “Oh just say it, Father. You faked a heart attack to get her back so Jaime could marry her and she could give you all the grandchildren you desire.” They all turned to look at him.

Jaime turned to Brienne. “That’s why you like him so much. You think he’s near death.” He laughed.

“You think this is funny? You think heart attacks are funny? You think your father’s health is a joke?” She was furious at them all. “I’ve been played for a fool and you’re laughing?”

Jaime stepped back. “Are you furious with him or defending him? Because I vote furious?”

Tyrion laughed and she turned to him. He raised his hands in supplication, “I found out a few days after your return.”

Her rash was starting to itch. Her eyes widened. She turned back to Tywin. “How did you know I was allergic to strawberries?”

Tywin said nothing.

“Did you get my medical records? Did you check my _fertility_?”

“See, wench, you should definitely go with furious. I am actually enjoying this ‘We told you so’ moment,” Jaime said.

Tyrion raised his fist. Jaime bumped it.

She crossed her arms. “If you think I am going to marry your son and breed for you, you have are sorely mistaken.”

Jaime’s head jerked up and the smile dropped from his face. “Oh no. No. No. No. No. _No. No. No_. I have just spent the last three hours with Pod hanging fairy lights in the garden. I’ve got candles. I’ve got a fucking band out there waiting.”

She turned to him. “A band? Why?”

“Because Tyrion reminded me that I had not actually proposed to you. So I have set up the most romantic proposal in the history of proposals and,” he turned to Tywin, “ _you_ are not going to ruin it for us.”

All she could feel was anger. “You woke me up in the middle of the night to propose to me and you think it’s romantic that I’m wearing a scrubby t-shirt and have allergy cream all over my face? That makes it romantic?”

Tywin picked up the perfectly cooled sandwich.

“Fairy lights don’t work in the daytime,” Jaime said in his defense.

She caught Tywin’s movement from the corner of her eye. She grabbed his wrist with one hand, and took the sandwich with the other. First she spoke to Tywin, “ _You_ will stick to the strict diet that I have outlined for you.” Then she spoke to Jaime, “ _You_ will find an appropriate time to propose to me, romantically.” She handed Tyrion the sandwich, “And you can be in charge of making them behave. I’m going back to bed.” She turned on her heel and went back to her room, leaving the three men staring after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this section. I hope you've enjoyed it. That you so much for all your support. This is a fucking amazing fandom.


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